One Lonely Night
by lillianempire
Summary: ...she invited him into her bed. One-shot. First person, stream-of-consciousness narrative. First from her perspective, then from his. Rated M for sexual content.


Scully

I don't know what I'm doing.

I don't want him to leave. I tell him that. I tell him that I don't want him to go. I don't want to face the loneliness when he's gone. I don't want to face the emptiness here after he shuts the door. He looks down at me, slightly surprised, as I take his hand.

I don't know what I'm doing, but I kiss him anyway.

I kiss him again.

And again, opening my mouth to let his tongue brush against mine. I like how he grazes his lips against mine when he turns his head. I like the way his hands cradle my face. He wraps his arms around me, and then I acknowledge what I am doing.

I fumble with zippers and buttons. It's not like I've done this recently. He takes off my clothes when I begin to remove his. It's awkward for a minute. It makes me feel better that he's not exactly smooth about it either. This is new. We don't know each other in this way. I'm still not entirely sure how long it's been for him.

I like the taste of his skin on his neck. I let my mouth linger there because of the sounds he makes when I do.

I lead him into my bedroom. We stand there beside my bed. I've seen him naked before, and he's seen me, but not in this context. Not with this between us right now. It radiates. He's looking down at me, questioning me. But can't he see it in my face?

I'm telling him yes.

I press myself up against him to kiss him again. I like the way his skin feels against mine. He makes a sound in the back of his throat, a soft sound, and pulls me closer to him.

This is happening.

Now.

I can feel him swelling against me. I take his hand from my face and put it between my legs. I want him to feel me, too. I want him to feel what he is doing to me. This is what he does to me. His fingers linger there, stroking me. He slides one into me, then another. It makes me gasp. His breath changes, it's heavier; I feel it against my hair.

He's getting on his knees, sitting me on the edge of the bed. Oh my God, he's going to do _that._ I didn't expect him to, and I don't know why. I thought it might be too much. I don't know if I should let him right now. It might be too much for now. But I feel his tongue there, penetrating me, unfolding me, and I don't want to stop him. He's going in circles. He doesn't touch that spot yet. He's making me wait for it.

Circles.

My hands clench the covers.

Circles.

But I want him inside me. I want that connection. That's what I want.

Now.

I pull him up and lay him back on the bed. I get on top of him. I don't know why I'm choosing to do it this way, but I don't want to spend time analyzing it. I guide him into me. There's a little discomfort, because it's been so long since I've done this with anyone. But he's warmed me down there, opened me up. I do it slowly, so I can take all of him into me. I look down at him. I look down at his face, his expression mixed with disbelief and desire. I look down at him as I start to move.

His hands are all over me, caressing me.

This is happening.

I like the way he feels inside me. I didn't know what it would be like, but I knew it would be different with him. Because it's him. He sits up and wraps his arms around me, turning me, laying me gently on my back. He's slowing it down. I was going too fast, but he's slowing it down to make it last. He hooks his arms under my knees, opening me up more. He wants more of me. I don't know where to look, so I close my eyes. I don't know if I want to look at him yet. I don't know if I can handle that yet. I cling to him as he buries his face in my neck. I cling to him as he thrusts into me, quickly then slowly. I listen to his breath quickening in my ear.

He says my name. He calls me Dana. I remember when he first called me that after my father died, and it changes things. We are changed. I am Dana. I am his.

I want him to cover me. Breathe me. Taste me. Feel me.

I start to feel something building and it surprises me. It begins deep, rising up from my depths, piercing the surface. I didn't think that would happen the first time. I thought I'd be too distracted with worry; with how this will change us.

I tell him not to stop. It's the first thing I've said since we started. I look at his face because I want to see if it's still there; the desire. I feel it. I feel it pouring out of him and into me. I feel it merging with my own desire, thickening the air around us.

I don't want him to stop.

That's when it bursts inside me, trickling down my spine, down my arms and legs, then back into me again. I have lost control of myself. He was holding on for me, but he lets go, too. I'm convulsing around him, clenching him, keeping him there. Why can't we stay like this? Why can't this last forever?

He lays behind me, pulling me into his arms, kissing my shoulders. I wait. I need to catch my breath. I'm afraid to look at him. I'm afraid he'll regret this, because this will change things now, won't it? We can't come back from this. But when I turn to look at him, there is no regret there. There's something else, and I'm afraid of how it makes me feel. We've surrendered to it; we know each other now, completely, intimately.

He loves me. I love him. We can't come back from this.

* * *

Mulder

She doesn't want me to go.

I think she's going to tell me something, but she looks up at me instead, something in her eyes, pleading with me.

When she kisses me, I think this isn't going to be like all the other times I've kissed her. I don't really know what is happening. But she kisses me again, and then I know.

Is it really happening?

Now?

I'm afraid she'll see how nervous I am. I'm afraid I'll do something stupid, like forget how to unhook her bra. It's been a long time. I hope she knows that. Her lips and her mouth are on mine. On my neck, kissing my shoulders. Her breath is in my ear, and I squeeze her hand because of what it does to me.

Is this really happening?

She takes me into her bedroom, and I look at her, trying to see if she's sure. Trying to see if it's okay. Because it's okay with me. I have wanted this for a long time, but I don't know if she knows that. It's a need rather than a want. I need it. I know that she does, too.

God, her skin…smooth and soft against me. She's warm. It melts me. I just want to stay like this. I want to feel every part of her against me. She takes my hand from her face, she guides it down. Down between her breasts, down her stomach.

Down.

My breath catches in my throat.

Down.

She puts my hand between her legs.

Oh God. She feels like velvet. Warm and wet velvet. My knees get weak.

I keep my hand there. I close my eyes. I feel like I can't breathe.

This is really happening.

I want to taste her. I want to know what she tastes like. She seems surprised when I get on my knees and sit her down. I put her legs over my shoulders. Oh my God, her velvety skin against my tongue. The taste of her...like honey, like wine, it's intoxicating. I want to drink her in. I take my time, exploring her there, I can hear her sigh, her breath is getting faster. I could just stay here. I could just do this to her all night.

But she pulls me up, and lays me down on the bed. I still taste her in my mouth. Why did she stop me?

I watch her as she gets on top of me. I feel her taking me in her hand, sliding me into her. I want to make this last. As long as I can. I hope I can do it, because I want to remember this, every second, every inch of her. Every sound she makes.

We are joined. I don't know where I end and where she begins. This is what she feels like, I think, as she moves her hips, taking me in.

Warm, yielding flesh. This is what she feels like.

I've thought about it before, but I didn't think it would be like this. Nothing my imagination has come up with compares. But she's going too fast, and I won't be able to hold back long enough. I lay her down. I want to look into her eyes. I want to please her. I want to fill her.

She's the most precious thing in the world to me, and I want her to feel that. Can she feel it? I watch her face, but she's turned away, her eyes closed. I kiss her neck, her hands. I breathe her in. I want to give myself to her. I want her to have all of me. I call her Dana as I make love to her. It doesn't seem right to call her anything else. She's Dana, and I love her.

I want to cover her. Breathe her. Taste her. Feel her.

She tells me not to stop, and I won't. There's nothing else in this world except her. She's all that I see. She's all that I know.

Then she tightens up around me, pulsating, a rush of wetness all around me. That's when I let go. That's when I give to her what she has given to me.

I hold her. I keep her locked in my arms. What if she regrets this? What if she thinks this is a mistake? I don't know if this will change things between us, but I do know that what we have just shared with each other has lit a fire within me. It burns for her, and only her.

She turns to look at me. I hope she can see that I love her more than ever now. There's love in her eyes, too. This was the last boundary.

I love her. She loves me. We can't come back from this.


End file.
